relia-robot
@relia-robot

Springs, head doll of the Witch of Fires Beneath the Earth, had a problem. It had started small: a single replacement arm had gone missing nearly two weeks ago, and simply could not be found despite repeated searches. Easy enough to replace, but it represented a... lack of order.

Springs couldn't abide things being out of order. It vexed the doll.

So when Paint came to Springs and said that half of the most recently fired parts had been taken right off the cooling stands, Springs called another search. Equally fruitless - it was like the parts had simply gotten up and walked away. Paint had shrugged and said that there was plenty more mud to turn into parts.

Springs' gears ground at that. "But that is... inefficient! Some entity has stolen parts meant for our witch! Does that not make you angry?!"

Paint scratched the back of its head, showcasing its broad frame under the heavy apron it wore. "This one doesn’t know about that, Springs. It's all mud in the end, isn't it? And there's lots of mud around here."

Springs gritted its teeth and left.

Then, of course, there were the fingers. Delicate instruments, of varying shapes and sizes, but sturdy enough to be kept in drawers. Celestine, which helped out their witch with repairs but was a tad clumsy, swore that it hadn't dropped anything, but that the count of joints was off. Most of the other dolls wrote it off as Celestine being forgetful.

Springs' core wound tighter. Every tiny theft, every out-of-place part, was evidence that something was there with them in the Witch's complex of buildings. It stopped resting, commanding the other dolls to keep it wound. It instituted a watch schedule. Every day, its tick grew more erratic, its voice became hoarser, its hair got messier and messier.

"Springs," said Paint, "these ones need to talk." The other dolls had assembled behind it, all looking less Still than they should have.

"Good!" shouted Springs, startling the crowd. "Yes, excellent, those ones are all here. This one has proof, now, see?!" It proffered an empty box at the assembled dolls.

Paint stared at it. "Springs, that's-"

"An empty box! But it shouldn't be. Yes, this box should have contained clockwork parts for Miss's newest doll! But they're gone! Something took these parts in between when the package arrived and now!"

The dolls shifted uncomfortably. Celestine spoke up. "Springs, does that one think, maybe... that it could have been Miss that took them? Since they're her parts?"

Springs stared at the crowd. "What?"

Paint put its large hand on Springs' shoulder. "Springs, that one has been... very much not Still, recently. When was the last time that one had a rest cycle?"

Springs ran its fingers through its hair, messing it up further, and muttered something unintelligible. "But, that isn't important! These ones have a thief among them!"

"You ought to listen to Paint, Springs," said a doll with bright green hair. "All this running around isn't good for you."

Springs stared at it. "This one... hasn't seen you before."

"What, Meadow?" said Paint. "It's new, Miss only made it a few days ago. But that's not important right now. Springs-"

"A few days ago?" said Springs. "With what parts?" It stared at Meadow's torso. "That one hasn't been glazed properly."

"W-what?" stammered Meadow. "No, I, uh, that is, this one is... simply a new style for Miss! That's all."

"Don't change the subject, Springs!" interrupted Celestine. "That one needs rest! That one has been acting strange, paranoid-"

"Look at it!" shouted Springs. "What doll has lime-green hair?" It snatched at Meadow's fingers, and for a moment swore that it saw a glimmer of green underneath them. "Look, Celestine! Are these the fingers that went missing last week?"

"Hey! Just because that one is head doll, doesn't mean that it can be mean to other dolls!" said Celestine. "This one probably just dropped the spare fingers into the vents, like everything else said it did!"

"But- but-!" stammered Springs. "This, this has to be the thief! It's a fake doll!"

Paint shook its head. "Springs, doesn't that one think that Miss could have made a new doll without that one noticing? Especially the last few days, that one has been so focused on the outside that it hasn't had time for its own chores!"

"Ack!" exclaimed Springs. "This one... has forgotten to do the dusting!"

"It's okay, Springs," said Meadow. "I took- uh, this one took care of it for y- for that one." It squeezed Springs' hand. "Dolls have to stick together, right? Why don't you go get some rest, okay?"

"Rest, this one," Springs let go of Meadow's hand and ran its fingers through its increasingly frazzled hair again, trailing green speckles through it. "This one... could use some rest. Perhaps those ones are right." It shuffled off, muttering to itself.

After it had gone, Meadow heaved a sigh of relief, and turned back to the other dolls. "Thanks for covering for me- uh, for this one. I- this one worried that it might get kicked out..." Meadow gripped the arm that Springs had wrenched and adjusted it back into its spot with a splorch.

"No problem, Meadow," said Paint. "That one is okay in this one's book."

"Is it... really okay if I keep saying I'm a doll, though? It's not... really true..."

Celestine patted Meadow's arm. "That one seeks Purpose and Stillness, it helps with chores, and it serves its witch... sounds like a doll to this one!"

"But, won't your Miss get mad when she finds out...?"

Paint shook its head, smiling. "Wouldn't be the first time Miss took on an unusual doll!"

It turned to Celestine, who smiled and curtseyed. "Former humans welcome," it said, with a grin.

Meadow smiled, hesitantly. "And slimes?"

Paint clapped it on the shoulders. "Stranger things have happened! Now, let these ones make sure that Springs' chores are all done so it can rest easily."

Meadow smiled and followed after its fellow dolls.


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